Hey there. This is just a short drabble that came to me in the middle of math class. I wrote it down in the middle of learning about graphing systems of linear inequalities. Probably not a good thing for my average. But I had to write it down. So enjoy!
Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural. Nope, I do not. Wish I did, though.
Dean was already ruined. Already broken. Already dead inside.
But now, kneeling in the heart of Stull Cemetery, looking down at the steaming, smoking, smoldering rings that lay where Sam had jumped, he broke all over again. He didn't really have a reason to live anymore. The entire purpose for him living…was in a hole.
So he stayed. He just kneeled there, trying his best to feel every throb and ache and pain that Sam had given to him.
But Castiel…
He popped up like the know-it-all immortal feathery douchebag of an angel that he was and just touched two fingers to his forehead. Then it was all gone. Every injury. Everything that had harmed Dean.
Gone in a flash.
In that moment, Dean hated Castiel.
He'd planned to keep every wound, to nurse his broken nose and loosened teeth. He'd wanted to cherish every mark that Sam had left on him.
Those wounds were all that he had left of his baby brother.